Quicksand
by Constellations101
Summary: Harry Potter is dead. Then why is he found locked up in Azkaban seventeen years after his supposed death.


**Quicksand**

**Chapter 1**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

"Harry Potter is in Azkaban." A haggard looking Ronald Weasley stood panting in the doorway, relaying the news in heavy pants while clutching a stitch to his side.

I raised a fine eyebrow at the Weasley's dishevelled appearance before registering his words. "Potter is dead and has been for seventeen years. It's time to move on, Weasley."

I understood, in part, why he would be so desperate to believe Potter to be alive even after countless muggle eye witness reports regarding a body materializing in thin air. The reports had clearly stated that the most distinguishable feature of the body, other than the bright green eyes, was a lightning bolt shaped scar etched on the forehead. The Weasley family, including a few others, had refused to believe it and had spent eight years searching for Potter before reluctantly admitting defeat.

It must have been difficult for Weasley and his wife, Granger, to live a happy life with their children when their best friend wasn't there to share the experience with them. The best friend who sacrificed his life to ensure the happiness of others.

"No. Minister Parkinson made her first trip to Azkaban a few days ago. She just arrived and I was the first she told of the news. She thought I should be the first to know since...you know." Weasley finished hesitantly.

I looked at him in surprise. "Why was he in Azkaban? And how come Pansy's visit brought Potter's situation to life when there have been countless other Prime Ministers between Pansy being elected as one and Potter's disappearance.

Weasley shrugged his shoulders. "He's at Saint Mungo's right now. No visitors allowed though. Pansy informed me that in two weeks she will bring Potter to her office so his close friends can see him again."

"And I suppose she wants to interrogate the saint of the Wizarding World." I smirked at the measly glare Weasley sent in my direction.

"You should come." Weasley said after a while.

"Tch. I have better things to do than visit boy wonder. Besides Pansy said 'close friends' and last time I checked we were rivals."

"Pansy made a list of the people that should be notified on this matter and your name was included. She doesn't want the public to know. She doesn't want to overwhelm him."

Weasley turned to take his leave but then he suddenly twisted around to address me once again. "You owe him big time, Malfoy. Don't forget that."

I felt a heavy feeling settle in my chest and I willed away the strong desire to avert my eyes from Weasley's. Despite my tarnished reputation, since the war, I still had my pride to consider.

**DM HP DM**

I surveyed the room before me in disdain, not so much the decor but the people huddled together. Pansy had said to be as inconspicuous as possible. Thus, the occupants currently gathered in the room thought it fitting to disguise themselves by resembling muggles. Needless to say, they had an uncanny resemblance to what muggles call clowns.

Seamus Finnigan was sporting a muggle dress, designed for women, with baggy jeans and a blue long sleeved shirt draped around the waist. Cho Chang looked like she just walked out the cover of some magazine depicting fashion disasters with her mismatched outfit. Dean Thomas sported a ridiculous ensemble consisting of burgundy slacks and an orange tee pulled over a green long-sleeved shirt. In fact, only Ronald Weasley, the Weasley twins, and Hermoine Granger looked presentable. Granger had decided to keep her last name rather than change it after marrying Weasley. However, Weasley Junior's effect was ruined by the gaudy orange tie with yellow and blue polka dots.

Pansy stormed into the room. She stared at the occupants in the room in mild disgust, her gaze lingering on mine. I smirked at her.

"Wow. I thought this was some high-tech secretive mission. However, it looks like a runaway circus somehow found themselves lost in my office." Pansy sneered.

A murmur resounded from the occupants, no one bothering to rebuke the current prime minister for fear of getting on her bad side.

"Ok. So this is how it goes. This lamp is the portkey and will transport us to a top secret location where several members from Saint Mungo's are waiting with Potter. Let me warn you now, the reunion won't be pleasant. We will spend the time discussing Potter's living arrangements in regards to his safety. Any questions?"

I scoffed inwardly. Pansy was known for turning feral if asked a question she was not in the mood to answer. Pansy was infamous for her vile temper.

After several minutes of tense waiting and awkward glances, all of which I was immune to, the portkey glowed a bright gold. We all grabbed a part of the portkey and were wrenched into temporary darkness before being falling in an unceremonious heap on the ground.

I quickly detangled myself from the others and inspected my surroundings, despite the darkness surrounding us, with a critical eye borne from years of auror training and following under Voldermort's command. We seem to be in some sort of forest. The canopy of trees concealing us from unwanted presences and the soft murmurs of different creatures created a vibrant melody while the grass beneath us felt lush and moist, thus I was able to deduce that we had arrived in some sort of rain forest.

I was able to distinguish a smattering of footsteps approach us cautiously from the right from the slight drizzle. I squinted, the stars being my only light in this dense forest, and was able to make out four bulky figures surrounding a tiny frame.

"We should light a fire. It will make us less weary of each other." Ron suggested nervously.

"Yeah become an early breakfast to some predator that might be lurking around." Fred snapped testily at his brother.

"We will cast a shield so no unwanted presences can enter." One of the bulky figures said.

Pansy set some chintzy chairs with a flick of her wand and a non-verbal spell while the healers cast a shield and strengthened it with protections.

Granger lit a fire in a jar and placed it in the middle. The blue flames flickering eerily as we all stared in shock at Harry Potter.

He was gaunt and pale. His skin was sunken and sallow. His dull jet black hair complimented his blank green eyes. He was severely emancipated, his clothes doing nothing to conceal his skeletal frame. The bruises under his eyes added to the sickly pallor.

_Overall Potter looked defeated._

_Like how everyone felt after the war ended._

_His supporters._

_His teachers._

_His family._

_His best friends._

_And...me._

"Hey mate, long time no see. How are you fairing?" Weasley held out his hand for Potter to shake just as Granger elbowed him for being insensitive. I can't say I disagree with her tactics. Though inconspicuous wasn't a trait she seemed to possess.

Potter just stared at Weasley with his blank eyes. He glanced at the offered hand and then at Weasley a few times before turning around. This blatant form of rejection, from his prior best friend, had me reeling inwardly. I looked at Weasley's hurt gaze and I felt slight pity for the red head. If Blaise had been in Potter's place, I don't know what I would have done.

After that no one said anything save for the occasional small talk that they tried to engage Potter in. However, their efforts seemed to go to waste.

"Can't say I blame him." Pansy muttered to me.

I furrowed my brows at her, indicating for her to elaborate.

"Well, this isn't exactly recorded because there wasn't enough information to support the claim. But two of the muggles that witnessed Potter's demise say that the guy who blasted him to smithereens kept yapping about how if he wanted to save himself all be had to do was hand over some information regarding the Weasley's whereabouts."

"Potter wasn't blasted to smithereens, he was vaporized. Or at least claimed to be."

"One of the reasons why this case was not further investigated. There was not enough information and the evidence was faulty. Due to the error in Potter's apparent death and the fact that the Weasleys never went into hiding as the evidence seems to suggest."

"But what could they have wanted with the Weasleys. Money and status are almost nonexistent where the Weasleys are concerned. And I don't believe they have anything else of importance."

Pansy stifled a laugh at this. It would be highly in appropriate of the current Prime Minister to ridicule her people.

"Unless Potter reveals the circumstances behind the attack, the case will not be opened for further investigation."

"You don't want him speak about his attack?" I questioned one of my closest friends. Pansy was known to be brutal but she always savoured those who voiced their experiences and opinions openly and honestly. Hence, her small crush on Potter throughout our fifth year. Small being the key word.

Pansy was silent for a while. I did not pressure her in providing me with an immediate response. I knew once she had gathered her thoughts she would reply.

"Honestly Draco, I want him to get better and heal and live a happy life. God knows he deserves it. Probably more than any of us. But at the same time I don't want him to talk. I'm afraid that a lot of secrets that were hidden during the war might come to light. We don't know the identity of the thugs who attacked Potter or what their motives were. What if stuff happened during the war that no one knew about."

"What do you mean by that?"

"We all know the cruelty depicted by the dark side. We know of the secrets that were kept. What if the light side aren't as innocent as they made themselves out to be."

"So you think Potter was trying to protect the Weasleys." I wasn't asking a question, I was verifying the facts.

"Seventeen years ago, a week before he went missing, Potter and Kingsley Shacklebolt had some sort of meeting. Nothing was noted of this meeting other than the fact that Potter stormed out of it half an hour later. Apparently he was cussing and in a vile mood."

"But the meeting could have been about anything."

"When he stormed out, he was muttering about Weasleys and second chances and something about prohibited information."

I glanced at Potter while attempting to analyze the information provided by Pansy. He looked forlorn as he gazed at his friends. When Granger and Weasley started bickering, his eyes softened around the edges and the ghost of a smile graced his delicate face. However, after a few seconds his eyes grazed with anger and he glared at the couple with an intense ferocity before morphing back to his blank, expressionless face.

Perhaps Pansy's theory had a little truth in it.

Perhaps Azkaban hadn't completely destroyed Harry. After all, he is innocent.

But the real question is: Can he survive now that he has nothing left to live for.

"Ok. Listen up. This is enough catching up for one night. We need to discuss living arrangements for Potter." Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and gave Pansy their full attention.

"Ron and I could accommodate him for a while," Granger volunteered.

Just as Pansy was going to voice her approval, Potter jumped to his feet and hissed his disagreement. His eyes were blazing with anger; his features morphed in pure unadulterated fury. It was like witnessing the reincarnation of Voldermort.

The first time Potter shows an emotion during this meeting, shows that he is human, and I see Voldermort in his place. I feel sick.

A thick silence penetrated the night despite the mosaic of sounds emitted by the nature surrounding us. Granger's eyes were filled with tears and she seemed uncertain on how to broach this topic further without incurring Potter's wrath.

Weasley looked just as angry as Potter but just as he was about to say something, Pansy silenced him with a stern glare.

"Very well, Harry. Would you like to stay with Dean Thomas until we acquire someone else in being a temporary caregiver?" Pansy queried.

Potter hesitantly nodded. His demeanour unfolding from its intensity back to its previous lacklustre. His eyes regaining the emptiness that was mirrored by his skeletal frame.

_"Harry...Please..." Granger was openly crying._

_Harry didn't react. _

_He didn't even glance at her._

_"Please don't do this to me."_

_Her pleads cut thorough the silence like a knife._

_He just turned away._

**HP DM HP**

I was currently sitting outside an eccentric café on the outskirts of some muggle town that I couldn't be bothered to remember. It was a great place to hold a private conversation due to the loud and cheerful babble of the stragglers enjoying an early morning breakfast.

"I suppose I don't really have much of a choice, do I?" I queried Parkinson. She was enjoying a plate of waffles covered in syrup. It was refreshing to see a girl not count her calories.

"Of course you have a choice." She pursed her lips in concentration. "Though you do owe him. Don't forget that."

"You know I seem to be hearing that a lot lately."

"I'm not speaking to you as your Prime Minister. Thus, you can freely reject the idea."

"Then why bother. You know I'm not going to do it unless you demand it."

Pansy pushed her plate away. "Draco, I'm asking you as your friend. Please do this. He has nowhere else to go."

I sighed and she took this as affirmation. "Great. He will be at your house tomorrow afternoon." Pansy then left without another word.

Great. I was stuck babysitting the Great Potter.

**HP DM HP**

**I hope you guys enjoyed it. Tell me what you think.**


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